Chapter 13
“Zhou Zhou!”
Supported by Ning Yang, Ning Zhou forced himself to stand. The ringing in his ears wasn’t as bad as before.
“Zhou Zhou, are you hurt? Where does it hurt?”
Ning Yang steadied him, noticing the uncontrollable tremor in his hand.
“Did you injure your hand?”
Other teammates gathered around, voices overlapping with concern, “Do we need to call the team doctor?”
“Maybe tell Assistant Coach Ning to sub you out and take a break?”
Ning Zhou swallowed against his dry throat, lifted his head, and forced a relaxed smile, “My bad, I just slipped, couldn’t save the ball. Sorry!”
“What’s there to apologize for? It was obvious you went all out!” Xu Zichang picked the ball back up and tossed it to the other side. “Next point, let’s win it back together!”
Du Jun asked seriously: “You’re sure you’re not injured?”
The faint smell of medicated spray always lingered on him. Ning Zhou felt a bit dazed but gave a light smile and nodded, “Mm, I’m fine.”
After this little episode, the game resumed. Everyone quickly returned to their positions, not dwelling on it too much—except for Ning Yang, who watched his brother’s back, recalling the tremor he had felt in Ning Zhou’s fingertips just now…
25 : 18
Assistant Coach Ning’s team took the first set. With that, the first batch of players’ match duty was over, and both sides swapped in entirely new lineups for the second set.
“We actually won! My roommate predicted before the match that Assistant Coach Ning’s team would lose all three sets to Coach Garry. Hah, I can already imagine how priceless his expression must be right now!”
Xu Zichang had shifted into spectator mode, chattering endlessly beside Ning Yang, repeatedly describing the points he had scored.
Ning Yang hummed absentmindedly, spacing out until he suddenly realized something. Looking around, he asked, “Huh? Where’s Zhou Zhou?”
“Ning Zhou? He went to the bathroom right after subbing out. Maybe he’s got the same stomach issues as you. Did you two sneak food behind our backs or something? Hahaha!”
Ning Yang shook off Xu Zichang’s arm, “You focus on watching the match and tell me the result later!”
“Huh? Where are you—”
Ning Yang squeezed out of the crowd, sprinted out of the gym, a sinking feeling gnawing at him…
He shoved open the restroom door and saw Ning Zhou bracing both hands against the sink. Ning Zhou heard the door and lifted his head. In the mirror, his gaze met Ning Yang’s. The cool-toned mirror light cast his skin in a cold pallor. Water droplets clung to the tips of his bangs, sliding down past the misty haze in his eyes, gathering at his chin. They looked so fragile, as if the slightest touch would shatter them…
“Meh-meh…”
Ning Zhou spoke in a daze: “I can’t dive anymore…”
“?” Ning Yang first exhaled in relief, then stepped closer. “What do you mean?”
“In the match just now, I tried several times. My brain still remembers how to dive, but my body acts like it’s completely forgotten. Every attempt failed—I was forced to use other moves to receive the ball instead.”
Ning Yang pulled out a tissue and wiped the water from him, frowning deeply, “You’re so good at defense. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t trained that skill specifically in a while… Let’s go see the team doctor. If it’s physical, that would be serious.”
“Okay.”
They returned to the court, where the team doctor was stationed nearby to handle emergencies. Ning Zhou explained what had happened. After examining him, the doctor said his bones and muscles were fine, “When you tried to dive just now, did you feel any pain anywhere in your body?”
“I… don’t really remember.” Ning Zhou hesitated. “My head suddenly went dizzy, and by the time my thoughts cleared, my body had already stopped the dive on its own.”
The doctor thought it over. “Try now—see if you can do it here.”
Ning Yang frowned. “Doctor, don’t push him. Zhou Zhou said he can’t—huh?”
Because Ning Zhou had already launched himself across the empty court in a smooth dive, perfectly completing the motion, his hands cushioning and sliding just the right amount on the floor. A seamless execution—cleaner than chocolate melting on the tongue. When he stood up, even Ning Zhou himself looked dumbfounded.
“…Huh?”
“Just as I thought—it’s not physical. It’s psychological.”
The doctor concluded and explained, “Your condition is similar to yips syndrome. Athletes with yips sometimes experience spasms or disruptions during matches, making them unable to perform a certain skill.”
Ning Yang’s pupils tightened: “So it’s competition anxiety?”
“I thought yips usually affected the wrist or fingers,” Ning Zhou muttered, interlacing his fingers and smoothly running through a little hand exercise. “My hands are fine when setting.”
“Right, yips is a physiological disorder, but you haven’t developed it to that level. This is likely psychological—don’t pressure yourself. Stay relaxed.”
Ning Zhou lowered his gaze, dropping his hands. “…Alright.”
So much for the fleeting illusion he’d had on court—that he had never been reborn, that his past injuries were just a nightmare. The truth was, the damage to his fingers in his previous life had never left him. It clung like ivy at his feet—inescapable, the harder he struggled, the tighter it wound…
If only he hadn’t tried to dive back then, his fingers wouldn’t have slammed into the advertising board—Could it be that his body, on instinct, was now trying to protect itself that way?
Ning Yang still looked stricken, wanting to ask the doctor more questions.
“It’s okay, Meh-meh.” Ning Zhou smiled gently, his voice soothing. “Maybe a night’s sleep will fix it. Even without diving, I can still compete with you on defense stats!”
“How could I ever match your defense… what kind of psychological shadow do you have about diving…”
“OHHH——”
The second half of Ning Yang’s sentence was drowned out by the eruption of cheers from the audience…
Like a drop of water splashing into hot oil, the players on court exploded with energy, all hyped up.
Ning Zhou and Ning Yang, standing on tiptoe, still couldn’t see the court. They exchanged a glance, then squeezed forward at the same time. Being only 178 cm, the advantage of throwing their smaller frames into a crowd of men’s volleyball players was agility—they could slip through any tiny gap. They finally squeezed into the front row, only to realize they were now standing right behind Coach Garry’s substitutes’ bench.
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Yu Bai…Main attacker Yu Bai, setter Shao Qiu, and middle blocker Chen Wenyao. These were the players Coach Garry had sent in for the second set.
24:16.
Endgame. They had already pulled ahead with a clear lead.
Other than the fifth set, which is played to 15, all sets are played to 25 points, with at least a 2-point lead required to win. Right now, Yu Bai’s team already had set point. Just one more point and they’d tie the overall score 1:1…
Shao Qiu chose to set the deciding ball to Yu Bai. Yu Bai jumped and spiked—his hitting height slightly over the blockers’ hands. The ball slammed against the top edge of the block, then ricocheted out of bounds like a stone shot from a slingshot.
Touch out! Yu Bai won the set point for Garry’s team!
25:16.
The second set was over.
“It’s him again! Watching him spike is so satisfying!”
“That sound when the ball hits the block—so heavy. Playing against him at the net, your hands could break!”
“But his spikes are all straight power shots. Didn’t Ning’s team block a few this set?”
“Almost zero finesse—just smashing with pure physical strength… exactly the kind of attacker Coach Garry loves!”
“Yu Bai’s playing so hard today. Feels like in training he never goes all out.”
“Of course. Today’s MVP prize is a direct ticket to the future first team. He’s definitely gunning for that!”
“Isn’t it more about switching groups?”
“Bro, are you out of your mind? No one in Garry’s group wants to transfer out!”
…
The players finished the set and walked back toward the bench. As Yu Bai approached, eyes sharp and fierce, the chatter among the crowd instantly died down…
“Brother Chen, here, water!”
“Brother Chen, your towel!”
Nie Feiang and “Talk-Tough” rushed to hand Chen Wenyao things, looking like his little underlings. Only then did Ning Zhou notice that several middle blockers he’d played against before were all gathered here.
“Huh? Nie Feiang, you guys know each other…”
Nie Feiang slanted his eyes at him, “Hmph, stinky Ning Zhou!”
Ning Zhou: ?
Ning Yang immediately bristled at that, “Watch your mouth! How could Zhou Zhou be called ‘stinky’? Since childhood, among all the players we’ve trained with, he’s always been the cleanest one!”
“Alright, alright, he’s the most fragrant!”
Nie Feiang flared his nostrils, tone dripping with sarcasm, “Fragrant little Zhou Zhou—so fragrant that he didn’t give a damn about our roommate bond and toyed with me across the net until I was lost. Today I absolutely won’t say a single word to him!”
Ning Zhou’s lips twitched. He nodded politely to “Talk-Tough” and Chen Wenyao, “Sorry, he’s giving you guys trouble…”
“No problem!” Chen Wenyao replied bitterly. “We’re all members of the Sad Middle Blockers Alliance.’ Supporting each other is only natural.”
Ning Zhou: ???
Why does Nie Feiang keep joining all these weird groups!? While his mind was spinning, a warm hand suddenly brushed down over his forehead, pushing aside his damp bangs.
“Why’s your hair wet?”
The rough callus under the fingertip, and the bandage wrapped around the knuckle in his peripheral vision, confirmed the person’s identity…
Ning Zhou shrank his neck back, ticklish from the touch, “Washed my face…”
Yu Bai pulled a towel from his bag and started rubbing Ning Zhou’s damp hair. His motions were a bit messy, but very light, not uncomfortable at all. The pure white towel carried the clean scent of soap, soft and dry.
“What are you doing!” Ning Yang’s anger spiked—terrified that his “fragrant Zhou Zhou” would be tainted by sweat stink. He yanked Ning Zhou behind him…
“—hiss…”
The onlooking players immediately shuffled back a few steps, like wary badgers in a melon patch, “Ning Yang’s provoking Yu Bai!”
“I respect his courage. On Yu Bai’s very first day, he grabbed veteran Shao Qiu by the collar. On the second, he flattened someone for talking behind his back. Provoking him basically guarantees a brawl!”
“Are they gonna fight?!”
The rumors grew more and more absurd. Ning Zhou even overheard someone claim, “Yu Bai once put a guy in the hospital.”
“It’s fine, Mie Mie.” Ning Zhou patted Ning Yang’s arm, signaling him to calm down. Then he turned to Yu Bai, “Thanks, my hair’s not dripping anymore.”
Yu Bai glanced back and forth between the two of them, then casually tossed the towel onto his own head and used one hand to wipe his sweat. Ning Zhou’s throat tightened—he really wanted to ask why Yu Bai didn’t just use a clean towel. Forget it. Maybe he only brought one…
The third set began quickly. Ning Zhou and Ning Yang stayed to watch, chatting with the “Sad Middle Blockers Alliance.”
Since today was Sunday—the only free afternoon during their closed training camp—Nie Feiang was already dreaming of his holiday plans, “I’m going out for barbecue! Then a movie, board games… maybe even bump into a cute girl to hang out with!”
“It’s just one afternoon. Take a nap and it’ll be over…” “Talk-Tough” wasn’t too interested. He turned to Chen Wenyao, “Brother Chen, you’ve been to lots of training camps like this. What do you do on breaks?”
Chen Wenyao’s expression softened, “Go home and play with my daughter.”
“You have a daughter, Brother Chen!?”
“Mm, it’s been five years since the wedding…”
Ning Yang leaned back in the chair in front of him, lost in thought.
“Only being able to play games for an afternoon feels suffocating. I’ll just stay here and practice some ball instead… Zhou Zhou, wanna practice together?”
“No.” Ning Zhou kept his eyes on the game. “I’ve got a program recording this afternoon.”
“Oh, oh, if you’ve got something then—wait!?”
Ning Yang replayed the words program recording over and over in his head, his brain’s CPU overheating, “You—you said what? A program?”
“You didn’t know?” Nie Feiang turned his head to help explain. “Zhou Zhou’s got half a leg in the entertainment industry already. He even made the hot search once just for his looks!”
Ning Yang turned to stone on the spot. “Vice Coach Ning was afraid I’d game too much, so he confiscated my phone…”
“So you’re basically still on 2G!” Nie Feiang folded his arms across his chest, proudly declaring, “Our Zhou Zhou’s about to make his debut on a live variety show!”
Ning Yang shook his head to clear it, then stared straight at Ning Zhou. “You mean your part-time job is recording a variety show?”
“Mm. A sports variety show.”
“How can you even call that a part-time job…”
“What’s the name of the show?”
Two voices—one left, one right—closed in on Ning Zhou’s ears. He finally pulled his focus away from the game and looked at the one who asked—Yu Bai.
“You said what?”
Yu Bai lazily tilted his head, arm draped across the back of Ning Zhou’s chair, “The variety show you’re in—what’s it called?”
“Sports Forward!” Ning Zhou said, then found the name a bit comical and smiled with his eyes. “Ever heard of it?”
Yu Bai paused, “Mm. My sister’s recording for it too.”
Ning Zhou recalled the official announcement on Weibo, pulled up a matching surname in his memory, and asked uncertainly, “Yu Tong?”
“Yeah.”
“Yu Tong’s your sister!?” Nie Feiang shot to his feet, his voice breaking. “You’re that Yu family’s young master!?”
![[Sports] I Really Am Just a Substitute](https://i2.wp.com/panda-translations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/08/20231215185420_300_420.jpg?resize=151,215 "[Sports] I Really Am Just a Substitute")